Look After You
by thirteenchrysanthemums
Summary: Sometimes people don't do what you expect and sometimes that's okay.


**I know what you guys are thinking and yes I agree: I am a penishead. I'M SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING. I planned on being active here these last few months but shit happened.**

* * *

Kagura is not happy.

Cerulean eyes scope the park the way a child scans their packet of smarties for the blue ones, only to find none in the packet. Undoubtedly the blue smartie is Okita Sougo, Captain of the Shinsengumi First Division, not simply because he is bad for one's health if exposed to for extended periods of time (case in point: Hijikata Toushiro) but also because she has "accidentally" punched him in his testicles so many times during their spars that they must be blue at this point.

Vermilion brows furrowed in irritation. Blue balls or no balls, the sadist is supposed to be here.

Over the course of their unstable relationship, a daily afternoon sparring session was established and has run for a little under a year now. Kagura would waltz into the park with Sadaharu in tow during the captain's patrol shift, and while she played with her dog Sougo would verbally harass her into combat. Despite the numerous unanticipated events that cluttered both of their schedules, not once was this routine broken.

Tugging lightly on her leash, the amanto leads her canine companion to the empty bench. "Here's your toilet for today Sadaharu," a wicked grin graces her features. The bastard is probably late, or hiding, or both, or maybe neither. It is a win-win situation in any case: Sadaharu's shit on his bench would be enough reason for him to come out of hiding and stop delaying their spar, and if he isn't here then she still gets the pleasure of basking in the glorious moments of desecrating her rival's sacred "slacking-turf".

Half an hour passes. The bench is drowned in animal faeces and Okita Sougo has yet to arrive at the scene of the crime. Squashing her disappointment, Kagura clicks her tongue and leaves the area, ambling towards home as she plots how best to punish the sadist for his absence.

* * *

Several hours later Kagura marches towards the Shinsengumi headquarters after muttering a brief "I'm going out" to her foster father. In turn he yells at her to buy a week's supply of strawberry milk on her way back.

She doesn't give Gintoki the opportunity to question her bringing the umbrella with her in the evening. There's no need to: she knows he's well aware that the sun isn't her opponent today.

* * *

"China-girl!"

A plain face and shaggy black hair greets her from a distance. At first sight she is surprised (and a little betrayed) to see Shinpachi in a Shinsengumi uniform. Nearing the gates she realises she is mistaken: the man hardly looks like her earthling brother. It isn't this officer's appearance that resembles her colleague, it's his boringly plain personality.

"Oh it's you. I thought you were Megane for a second."

Yamazaki presses on. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" She cocks her head. "I'm here to teach the sadist a lesson for slacking off of his duties today."

The mere mention of his captain causes his face to pale in fright. Frantically he moves to block her access to the main entrance. Spreading his arms wide he shakes his head vigorously, "Not today China-girl. Okita-san isn't in the m-"

She grabs his face, muffling the rest of his words with her palm "Get out of my way anpan-freak" and throws him into the nearest wall. "Is tax-robbing not a big enough crime for you goons? Now you want to abstract juice too?" In a similar manner to how Noah parted the Red Sea, the other officers guarding the gate unanimously step aside to clear her path to the entrance.

"I believe you mean obstruct justice," a husky voice interjects as the gate creaks open to reveal an unamused Vice Commander, "And it's not an obstruction of justice if you're being prevented from beating up an officer."

Kagura grins at Hijikata, "Great! So you know why I'm here!"

Just as quickly as it appears, the smile leaves her face. "I know you all have too much time on your hands but I'm a busy person." Ignoring Yamazaki's outcry ("WE'RE the ones with a job here!") she continues with a solemnity one uses when discussing a business transaction, "Let's cut to the chase: bring me to the sadist so I can kick his ass and I'll testify as an unpaid worker so you can arrest Gin-chan."

Hijikata barely contemplates her offer before doing exactly as requested.

* * *

"Sougo, you have a visitor." Hijikata slips away leaving her to her business.

When she arrives at the doorway of her rival's room Kagura resists the overwhelming urge to shuffle a few steps back. The room's stillness is stifling: not a breath of movement can be detected. The moon's glow filters through the slit of Sougo's curtains, providing the sole source of light and enshrouding the rest of the room in pitch blackness. One would assume this place to be empty if not for the futon situated right in the middle of the room, and the corpse-like body lying rigidly inside.

From the atmosphere alone she knows she is not welcome but her pride stops her from excusing herself.

"Oi sadist." The pitter-patter of her footsteps - while usually inaudible - pierce the eerie silence, popping Sougo's bubble of solitude. He rouses from slumber yet makes no move to acknowledge his guest.

Walking cautiously towards the futon, the amanto masks her unease with empty insults. "It's so dark. I didn't know you were trying to make your room look like the inside of an ass." Lowering into a crouch beside him she whispers, "Is that why you have a shitty personality?"

When her taunt is met with further silence she feels obliged to continue. "You better not be having dirty dreams about me you filthy tax robber. That's sexual harassment."

Sougo moves from staring blankly at the ceiling to face his window, turning his back on her as he mutters "Why are you here?"

Kagura freezes at the sound of his voice: his monotone sounds especially dull and its roughness can only be the aftereffect of not speaking for an entire day or too much sake. In his case it's both.

"Mayora let me in."

"Well get out."

"No."

He growls at her reply. Can't she see that he doesn't want to be bothered by anyone, let alone by her? He has always known Kagura has the emotional intelligence of a brick, and on any other day he would have found her stubbornness amusing, endearing even. Not today however.

"Not until I punish you for slacking off, you shitty swordsman."

The only signs of battle Kagura receives are a growl from the officer and the crisp sound of a katana being unsheathed. "If it's a fight you want..." Instinctually she holds her umbrella to her chest, just in time to defend herself from a potentially fatal blow."...then have it your way." Red eyes narrow when his surprise attack fails but it does little to discourage him from sending a barrage of attacks at the foolish woman. "Just get" -hack- "the fuck" -slash- "out" -stab- "afterwards".

And so their battle begins.

* * *

Despite her vulnerability to light Kagura finds herself wishing the sun hadn't set as soon as it did. Fighting in the evening has never been a problem (as a Yato it has always been a bonus if anything) however the near pitch blackness of her rival's room hinders her sight. It is only her innate ability to sense her enemy's location and feel the shift in the air from his movements that keeps her alive at this point. As she narrowly parries Sougo's vicious slash to her torso she realises this isn't a spar.

It's a full-scale assault.

The sheen of his blade alerts her to his next move. Knees buckling, she ducks below his katana as he wildly attempts to slice at her horizontally, answering his attack with a swift uppercut to his chin. Sougo takes the smallest step back as he absorbs her punch, before slashing upwards. Kagura sidesteps his sword with ease and punishes his carelessness with a roundhouse kick to the stomach, all the while pondering why his moves are unusually predictable tonight.

He flies into the wall denting it with the impact of the crash. The yato internally winces at the harsh sound, wondering why none of the other officers have checked up on them with all the ruckus they're causing. Aren't they concerned about their headquarters being demolished into the ground?

Her musings are cut short when her opponent lunges at her with a lot more speed and vigour than she expects of a man who has just been kicked into the wall. However, Kagura has no time to be impressed by his quick recovery. Sougo's unanticipated recuperation forces the amanto to block his attack with her umbrella rather than dodge it. Almost crippling under the sheer force of his strike Kagura digs the balls of her feet into the floor, emitting a grunt as she grips her umbrella tightly on both ends and summons all the strength in her triceps to push his katana off before elbowing him none-too-gently in the temple. Dirty move, yes. In her defence, given that his most recent strike would have easily sliced into her head, she has little choice but to fight to kill if she wants to survive.

The bloodlust radiating off of her rival fuels her own as they continue their exchange of blows. His movements - although uncharacteristically predictable - are far more powerful than usual, as though he has completely abandoned all sense of control. His fighting style tonight contrasts so sharply with his usual pattern that her body registers the man before her as a stranger rather than her sparring partner. The Okita Sougo she knows would never forsake control for power - every strike of his had a deadly precision that too much power would negate. Not only is this man swinging his weapon wildly without care for placement, he has also forgotten the entire concept of _defence._

Despite not even bothering to defend, he barely so much as flinches when receiving her attacks and proceeds as if entirely unharmed. The officer's combat behaviour bears too much resemblance to that of her clansmen and she finds herself holding back less as their fight progresses. Feeling the pull on her deadly instincts, Kagura's focus briefly shifts away from the officer to control the increasingly excited beast within her before it fully awakens.

Taking advantage of her momentary lapse in concentration Sougo lunges for her again, a feral snarl emanating from his lips. While her mind freezes up from being caught off-guard like a deer in headlights, her body acts on autopilot: moving to defend herself before she is fully aware of her arms' movements.

Weapons clash.

Blue meets red.

Time freezes.

Uneven breathing punctures the tense silence. Their weapons are pressed up against each other so intensely that his body's tremors cause hers to respond in kind. His laboured breaths come out in short puffs, warming her forehead while hers dance along the column of his throat. Beads of perspiration roll down her face at an achingly slow pace, sharply contrasting the speed of their battle. While neither party sustains significant wounds, the room is in a complete and utter disarray: walls decorated with craters, furnishings either split in half or smashed into irrecoverable pieces.

Although no body contact is made, they are so close to each other that if one moves the other would instantly know which limb is in action because they can _feel_ the shift in the minuscule barrier of space that separates them. Despite the hostile nature of the situation there is a degree of intimacy in their proximity that would leave a stronger impression on an onlooker than all the broken furniture surrounding the pair, should anybody stumble into the room at this point.

However, Kagura notices none of this.

Her focus is captured by her opponent's eyes, the only feature the moonlight illuminates. Gone is the indifference that usually swims in those scarlet orbs. In its place is a wrath spiralling with such scalding ferocity that Kagura wants to look away, to shield herself from its fiery depths. She doesn't. Instead she plunges into the firestorm, frantically searching beyond the walls of rage and frustration, only to find something even more frightening concealed within its core.

If the eyes are windows to the soul, Okita Sougo's soul is _broken_.

* * *

With their battle on hold and their positions fixed Sougo's rage gradually subsides. Adrenaline ebbs away, sapping at his energy as it does so. Self-loathing crawls back into his being, returning to haunt him as it did earlier that day and threatening to swallow him whole. Abandoning his wrath entirely, he doesn't fight the quiet pain stirring in his heart.

Grief anchors him: growing heavier with every breath, drowning his lungs as through he is trapped at the bottom of the sea with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Because **she** is - _was_ \- the world to him, and today he is reminded of how he helplessly looked on as his world slipped through his fingers.

He stays inside today as punishment for his shortcomings. How can he go about his routine pretending things are perfectly normal when in truth he is shattered beyond repair? He may not know what he could have done back then to help her but he does know that he wasn't - _isn't -_ enough to save her.

What good is he as an officer if he can't even protect his most precious person?

And so, today he is not the indolent captain of the First Division. He is not the strongest samurai the Shinsengumi has to offer. Today Okita Sougo is an orphan: the younger brother of the late Okita Mitsuba. Today is the only day of the year where his mask of indifference slips away. The only day where he lets himself mourn as the boy who watched his family leave him, as the sole witness of his sister's last words, as the most loving woman's only companion on her death bed.

As he did four years ago, today he grieves as a boy who is utterly and helplessly alone.

The raw pain in his eyes tugs at her heartstrings. Yet it isn't sympathy brewing in her chest. As a yato, pity is a foreign emotion. Sympathy is for the weak. Pitying your opponents is an insult to them and your mercy will only get you killed. Hands tighten their grip on the umbrella as she halfheartedly applies pressure against his sword. Blue meets red again. When did she look away? He stares at her but his gaze is unfocused. She bites her lip. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of her stomach, his eyes look too familiar for comfort. A cold chill runs down her spine. Kagura has seen that glazed look before. In fact she recognises everything about his behaviour tonight, from his wrathful demeanour to his wild fighting style. From where though?

She looks closer until crimson irises reflect her own and then she understands why it is all so familiar. An image of rosy locks and a pale _smiling_ face flickers through her brain. Before she can stop herself her mind wanders, reminiscing about a land where it only rains and a woman who encompassed the meaning of home moreso than any faulty roof over their heads. She remembers a boy and a man who left them stranded for the sake of ambition. She remembers clawing her fingers through the dirt because she couldn't afford to give her mother the shelter she deserves _even in death_. She remembers digging even past the beyond of ripped fingertips, hunting for flowers for a headstone nobody else cared to pay respect to. She remembers wandering aimlessly for days on end and searching for hope in street corners and rubbish cans. She remembers the feeling of solitude, questioning the point of her existence when she lost her meaning of _home_ years ago. She remembers until her ears ring and her chest aches and her eyes burn.

 _'When you fight, it doesn't matter how many enemies you kill. If you fail to protect what you want to protect, you lose.'_

They lost their battles years ago.

* * *

When Kagura breathes out a melancholic sigh, Sougo feels betrayed (of all the people to demean him with pity, how _could_ she?). When she seizes his katana by the blade with her hand, unbothered at how it digs into her skin, fury turns into surprise. In fact, he is so stunned that when she wrestles the sword out of his loosened grip he puts up minimal resistance. And when he hears the thud of both their weapons being carelessly thrown aside, bewilderment turns into confusion. Quickly, he breaks free from his thoughts to assess the situation. While hand-to-hand combat is her forte, it has never been enforced among samurais. Putting his hands up in front of him nonetheless he decides it is better to prepare himself in any way possible than to stand defenceless when your defeat has yet to be assured.

But nothing could have prepared him for when she pulls him towards her by his collar, wrapping an arm around his neck while the other cradles the back of his head ever-so-gently. However, it is not long before his hands find the lower back of her shirt, gripping the fabric as he attempts to pull her off of him with all his might.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Seconds pass by as they both continue to struggle before she replies "…I don't know." His hands still, remaining fisted in her blouse."I came here to fight this idiot…" Her arms tighten. "Instead I find a boy who needs a hug." He trembles at her description of him, not knowing whether it is in anger at being reduced to a pathetic boy in her eyes, or something else.

"I don't know if they're the same person, it's really dark so the guy I'm looking for probably isn't here."

It takes a while for Sougo to realise what exactly it is that the yato is doing and when he does, a foreign emotion blossoms in his chest. Although his prideful side is disgusted at the notion of being comforted by _that China girl_ , it is the little boy inside of him who hearkens to her words, beaming at finally being noticed after years of neglect. Comrades and superiors alike respect him, treating him like an adult and acknowledging his efforts. While this has never been an issue to him Sougo never realised how much of his childhood was sacrificed to get where he is - not until it literally punched him in the face in the form of peachy locks and ocean eyes. If her mere presence is enough to coax the child in him to come out and play, why should it surprise him that she can see the boy in him desperately yearning for comfort?

After all, in spite of his many accomplishments, Okita Sougo is still just a kid who was forced to grow up too quickly.

"So…that slacker I came here to beat up…is he here?"

His prideful side swoops in again, reminding him that the person he is seeking solace from is his rival. Revealing his emotional burdens to anybody, let alone the female yato, could result in drastic repercussions for him. While he doesn't agree that emotions are a weakness, he won't ignore the fact that they can be a tool for manipulation. Plus, Kagura has too many incentives to destroy him. Who knows what she would do with this information in the future. Is exposing his emotional baggage to her worth the risk?

A sticky substance from her hand on the back of his head runs down to the nape of his neck, snapping him back to reality. _Blood._ He recalls her clutching the blade of his katana, and slicing the palm of her hand on it as she yanks it away only moments ago. No whimper, no flinch, no hesitation came from her when she chose to perform what could easily be the stupidest move in the history of spars. What on earth possessed her to do such a thing? Limbs are the main weapons of Yatos, and just moments ago this girl willingly risked her very own for his sake. That foreign emotion inside him swells, pushing his pride out.

If she can risk it for him, can't he risk it for her?

Until now it has been all too easy to grieve alone: no one ever gave him the opportunity to do otherwise and in all honesty he was too weary to do otherwise. Yet, as he spends more time wrapped up in the comfort of another's arms he finds himself wondering how long it has been since he came into physical contact with someone who wasn't trying to kill him.

How long has it been since he let someone through his barriers? Hasn't he been on his own long enough?

Kagura's warmth invades his senses, seeping through his skin and posing as a constant reminder that he isn't alone and doesn't have to be. Relinquishing his grip on the back of her shirt Sougo snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he buries his face into the crook of her neck. Heaving out a pent-up sigh he relaxes, melting into her touch. Breathing her in, the scent of strawberries tickles his senses. _'She must have showered with Danna's parfaits again.'_

Delicate fingers weave themselves into flaxen hair as she absentmindedly massages the back of his head. Kagura didn't expect him to give into her and now that he has, she doesn't know how to proceed. His arms tighten around her waist and his lashes tickle her as he closes his eyes. Hesitation rolls off of the girl in waves.

Nonetheless she whispers, repeating her question. "…is he here?"

She hears the smile in his voice and feels it on her skin as he plays along with her charade. "No, he isn't."

"That's ok, I guess I'll just fight him tomorrow or something. The bastard can wait."

He chuckles. The situation is so bizarre yet so befitting. Vibrations from his quiet laughter ricochet off the amanto's body, soon enough she finds herself chuckling with him. The girl in his arms could not be a bigger mess of contradictions: a rival who becomes an ally in dire times, a thoughtless woman with a big heart, a member of the most ruthless alien race who is more humane than humans. Even now as she acts out of character to comfort him, he cannot help but notice how true to herself she stays.

He wonders how this woman who wasn't meant to be anything more than a rival, has managed to slip past his walls. Yet strangely enough, he doesn't mind. Okita Sougo may regret many of his past decisions but something tells him that confiding in Kagura will not be one of them.

* * *

"Gin-saaan! Shouldn't Kagura-chan be home by now? It's getting late."

"She's young." The man in question doesn't lift his eyes from his JUMP magazine as he answers. "Let her have some fun."

With that, Gintoki resumes his reading of the latest copy of _Gintaman_ as he munches on some chips, observing how they lack the spiciness they had four years ago.

* * *

 **Before someone starts bitching, I know blue balls is a serious condition.**

 **I've wanted to write this fic since I first watched the Okita Mitsuba arc over a year ago so I guess I can finally cross that off my list. But I'm not happy with how it turned out so I might edit it.**

 **[Ok so there were some typing errors that I just noticed. Sorry I didn't get those out of the way but hopefully they're all gone now!]**


End file.
